I know I’m very late to this party, but since the thread got renewed, I thought I’d give some of my origin story. I could probably write a ton, but I’ll try to keep this as short as I can.
I don’t know if this had any influence on me, but my mom’s doctor kept telling her I was going to be a girl. Now this was long before the days of ultrasound or amniocentesis. It was just from how she was carrying. Did her believing she was going to have a girl have any influence on me in the womb? We’ll never really know.
When I was 2 or 3, my aunt got married in a high neck wedding gown. I don’t remember much about it, but the feeling of the slippery material and the high neckline has influenced me. I still prefer high neck wedding gowns.
The feeling of silky material always made me tingle (not that I knew the word; it was a weird ticklish sensation). I remember once being at Radio City Music Hall with my siblings in the summer (without A/C in the home it was one of the few ways to get out of the heat). At one point my mom went to get some snacks for us while we stayed and watched the movie (not something that we would do today). As she passed by me, her skirt brushed my bare legs and it sent a shivering tingle through me. Another time in the summer she was bending over the baby carriage and I was close enough for her skirt to brush me, and I again felt the tingle.
These feelings felt good but also scared me. But like a scary movie, I always wanted more. If the skirt wasn’t silky on the outside, there was always the half-slip underneath. I can recall times when I would take a slip from the hamper just to brush it against my legs.
When I went for haircuts, the barber would start with tissue paper on my neck, which caused me to tingle, and then put a nylon cape around me, clipping it tight. To me this was like the high neck wedding gown, and the cape was my “dress.” In the summer, when I wore shorts, the cape was longer than my shorts and I really felt like it was a dress.
He would cut my hair with scissors, but always finish up by using a buzzer to clean the base of my neck. But I think I had an unusual anatomy. When the buzzer was on my neck, I felt vibrations in my tailbone. It was a weird sensation, one which again I had a love/hate relationship.
In later years, the beauty parlor was 3 doors down from the barber shop. I would often have fantasies of being caped up, then some emergency came up and I would have to go to the beauty parlor for the haircut where I would be treated like a girl. The feminine smell of hairspray and nail varnash that were ever present in a beauty parlor were things that almost scared me.
Watching programs like Get Smart (spy programs) introduced me to soft core bondage. And The Addams Family introduced me to tight hobble skirts. I would often wrap my legs tightly in the covers at night (my hobble skirt) and even tuck my arms in.
I had plenty of fantasies of being stuck in dresses. I would imagine the zipper being glued, then sewn over with a whip stitch to further prevent it from being pulled down. Then the zipper flap sewn up so you couldn’t even get to the zipper. And finally hooks and eyes (like at a high neck) stitched closed and then pinched with plyers to prevent them from being taken off. When I learned that the original Star Trek women’s uniforms had to be sewn on it was almost a dream come true. Many years later when I found dresses with lock loops, it was a fantasy come to life. And if they didn’t have them, I would sew in some plastic rings inside the neck so they could be locked on.
Wedding dresses with the buttons down the back (I didn’t know that most of these were for show) provided another way to be stuck in a dress by tightening the loops so that they couldn’t be pulled back off (not that I’d be able to reach them anyway).
Speaking of being sewn into clothes, this was a few years after I had learned some basic sewing skills in case I needed them when at sleep away camp. When we had an umbrella where the frame broke, I managed to remove the nylon skin from the umbrella and sewed it on to my waist. It was my first skirt (not something borrowed). I wore it for only a few minutes (everybody was home at the time) before I took it off and threw it out with the umbrella frame.
My sister had a yellow nylon party dress. After she wore it, my mom would hand wash it and hang it over the shower rod in the bathroom. I wasn’t tall enough to reach up and remove the dress from the shower rod, but I would stand up on the edge of the bathtub and reach up into the dress as if I was putting it on. I could only reach up to the point where the skirt was somewhere on my belly, but the sensations were incredible. Many years later I got a similar dress in white and wore it as a short wedding dress last year on Halloween. I have a public picture and some private pictures available.
I could go on and on, but I think this covers many of the highlights. I can’t say I wanted to be a girl, but having a skirt brush and tickle my legs is part of my earliest memories.
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